


The Night Shift

by zombiecheetah



Series: Where Loyalties Lie [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Eventual Romance, F/M, First Meetings, Healing, Idiots in Love, Illnesses, JUST KISS ALREADY, Love, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 03:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15133745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiecheetah/pseuds/zombiecheetah
Summary: With the Allmother as her patient and the younger Prince of Asgard not leaving her side, Sigyn volunteers to work the overnight shift to keep an eye on both.





	The Night Shift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/gifts).



> Thank you to gaslight gallows for prompting with: “Well, I can only think of three things wrong with that plan, but go on.“
> 
> This incident is referenced in Chapter 2 of Snakes in the Garden, pre-Thor, pre-Logyn, just a conversation between two acquaintances figuring out that they're friends. 
> 
> Feel free to say hi as I am zombiecheetah on tumblr! Thank you for taking the time to comment I always appreciate your feedback. :)

Sigyn was hardly opposed to working in the evenings. The infirmary was usually quieter and the injuries were often far more interesting in nature. Sir Fandral, her newest friend, was a prime example, his various bedding injuries quickly becoming infirmary legend. But tonight, given that the patient currently in her care was the Allmother, and given that her raven-haired son still refused to leave his vigil at her side, Sigyn felt particularly moved to stay behind.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Gyda asked cautiously, as Sigyn walked her to the door. The young healer, bless, who was usually so bright and bubbly to the point of annoyance had been quiet for most of the day, her bright blue eyes were puffy and red, and her white-blonde hair had fallen around her face in wisps, making her appear to be in a permanent state of ghostly shock. “You must be exhausted.”

“I think some rest would be good for you as well, my dear,” Sigyn replied, leaning against the door frame with arms crossed, attempting to take some weight off her feet, “I’ll be just fine. I’ve been personally assigned to the Allmother so I won’t be running around too much. Hopefully, this will be a nice quiet uneventful evening and we can move her back to her room tomorrow morning.”

“I just don’t want you to be alone…” Gyda’s eyes gazed behind Sigyn, who turned to see Prince Loki quietly murmuring something to himself as he clutched his mother’s hand. Sigyn could hear Gyda’s additional “with him” as clear as day.

And she had a point. With his brother and father traveling off realm, Prince Loki had not dealt with the situation with perhaps all of the grace becoming of his station, reducing poor Gyda to tears. It had taken Sigyn, after figuring out the mysterious illness that had caused the Allmother’s health to decline at an alarming rate, a good half an hour to truly calm down the prince.

“He’s the god of chaos and lies,” Gyda continued, her voice a loud whisper that made Sigyn about fifty percent sure the prince could hear every word, “I’ve heard stories.”

Sigyn’s gaze lingered on the prince for perhaps half a moment too long. The raging prince that had entered the infirmary was nowhere to be found, replaced with a deflated mess of a man who was much more amenable to Sigyn’s requests. Loki had even joked with her a bit earlier and had allowed her the privilege of dropped formalities for the evening.

“Well, tell them to yourself and then go to sleep,” Sigyn insisted, turning back to Gyda and nodding out the hall, “I’ll be just fine. And if for some reason I have indeed perished at the end of the night, you may have my tea collection.”  

Gyda’s eyes lit up, “Not your books?”

Sigyn’s face broke out into a much-needed grin. “Of course not, we’ll need them to create my funeral pyre,” she teased before firmly following up with, “Good night, Gyda.”

The small joke seemed to put some pep back into Gyda’s step as she left the infirmary. Nice to see that Prince Loki hadn’t totally destroyed her. Speaking of which...

“So noble of you to volunteer.”

His voice was shorn velvet, hoarse and cracked from crying. Sigyn slowly turned to face him, leaning the side of her head against the cool wall. The prince hadn’t bothered to even turn around to address her, “Do the healers often speak of their patients within earshot?”

She couldn’t help herself, “Only if they want their patients to hear.”

_Too sassy yet again, Sigyn, come on. Calling him Mischief was pushing it to begin with. Remember who he is._

Loki was silent, Sigyn wondering for a moment if he was going to send her to the gallows for real this time as he swiftly stood from his seat, playing with the fastenings on the front of his tunic. His eyes were as puffy as Gyda’s and a few strands had escaped his slicked-back hair and hung limply around his face, Sigyn absentmindedly wondering if they were in danger of being cut by his cheekbones. He tugged down the sleeves of his shirt by its cuffs, his shoulders high and tight as he gave her a stiff response, “I suppose I could not blame you if I make you uncomfortable. Though if I do, you’re doing a fine job of not showing it.”

 _Interesting._ Sigyn had come to not expect considerations of comfort from anyone, let alone the Prince of Asgard. Though she supposed she had bought herself no small amount of goodwill. The way he stared at his now slumbering mother made her heart ache, the entire situation hitting just a bit closer to home than she would have liked.

She tried a reassuring smile on for size. “I am perfectly comfortable. In fact, I actually was enjoying our conversation at the end there earlier. I’m simply grateful I was able to assist in healing your mother.”

“Don’t be so modest, you saved her,” Loki retorted, his voice catching on the word ‘her’ his eyes watering again as he cleared his throat as he began to slowly slip towards Sigyn and the door. “I should not punish you for such a noble deed with my continued presence here.”

“Come on, Mischief,” Sigyn insisted, staying firmly in front of the doorway, the pet name still new but natural sounding on her tongue, “You’re the God of Lies, are you not? Wouldn’t you be able to tell if I was lying to you?”

Loki took a few steps closer, Sigyn taking the time to more fully evaluate him, knowing full well he was taking stock of her at the same time. It was easy to follow his gaze, his eyes she realized were green but at times looked blue when the light hit them at a particular angle. He had purple bags under his eyes, the depth of color emphasized by the paleness of his complexion. Not the classic archetype of attractiveness in Asgard but hardly plain.

Loki took a few more moments, his eyes fixed on hers before he finally spoke, the corners of his lips slowly curling into a small smile. “I knew I liked you for a reason. I confess I have not met many who share your particular range of gifts.”

“Silvertongue indeed.” It was nice to see him smiling, a small amount of pale pink creeping into his cheeks as he glanced at the floor. She continued, “It’s nice to talk to someone who has such a knowledgeable handle on seidr theory. I’d be interested in reading some of your studies you were discussing earlier if you have no objection.”

The only word for what Sigyn observed on the prince’s face at that moment was joy, his reply slow, like he couldn’t believe what she had just asked him, “I’ll send some material to you in the morning.”

“Just forgive me if I take a few days to get through it,” she replied, stifling a yawn in her elbow, “I’ll need some rest after this and my roommate enjoys talking and snoring. Which is fine. Simply not conducive to sleep.”

Loki jumped on that immediately, “Sounds to me like you need a room to yourself. I’m sure after all of this, such a thing would be easy to arrange.”

“If it’s no trouble.” _Please, for the love of the nine, have it be no trouble._ Helga was fine as a co-worker but as a roommate, she was a bit too messy and a bit too detailed about every inconsequential feature of her life for Sigyn’s taste.

“Of course not.” He waved his hand and another seat appeared next to the one he had been sitting in at his mother’s side. “You would not mind joining me?”

“Of course not,” she copied, pretending not to notice him running a fumbling hand through his hair, in a hazy attempt to reset the strands that had fallen out of place.

While Loki sat down all straight-backed and formal, she curled into her seat, pulling her feet up and under her, finally giving them some relief. If it was her comfort he was concerned about, might as well be comfortable. Sigyn’s hand glowed yellow as she quickly scanned the Allmother, confirming that everything was still working properly, the sickness still completely gone.

Loki watched her with interest, holding all comments until the glow in her hand faded, “There are days, especially some adventures with my brother and his companions that I regret not studying healing further. My skill ends at small cuts and bruises I’m afraid.”

“That’s still more than the general population,” Sigyn commented, “Though your brother and his friends all seem quite tough, do they really get hurt so often?”

“More than I believe any of them would be willing to admit,” Loki remarked, the grin in his voice making a sudden disappearance. He was fidgeting, the fingertips of his right hand tracing over the open palm of his left. “You’ll meet my brother tomorrow I suppose. I think he’ll like you.”

“That’s reassuring. Thor seems good-natured. Though I will admit I’m a bit nervous at the prospect of possibly meeting your father.”

Loki cut in a little too quickly, “Do not concern yourself with him. I’m sure he’ll be entirely focused on finding a way to blame me for this whole ordeal. In fact, I was thinking earlier that perhaps you should have infected me with my mother’s illness in some sad attempt to convince him of my innocence in this matter.”

Sigyn didn’t quite know what to say. She hadn’t expected this conversation to get so personal, nor for him to admit to her his uneasiness with his father, her king. Though with what little she had observed of the Allfather’s temper and favoritism, his feelings on the matter came as no surprise.

She decided to go a lighter route, “Well, Mischief, I can only think of three things wrong with that plan, but please, continue.”

Loki’s eyes widened in surprise, his lips once again teasing a smile, “Three, you say? I’m embarrassed, usually, my plans are much more tightly formed.” He gestured to her, “Go on, then.”

_Much better._

“Well. The most obvious reasoning being that infecting you with a fatal illness would be considered assassination. And I for one enjoy having my head firmly connected to the rest of me.”

“What a novel concept,” Loki joked dryly, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves again tugging them down his arm like the sight of his wrist was going to render her comatose, “Much more selfish reasoning than I was expecting.”

“The second reason is as well. Your brother would probably attempt to electrocute me if I harmed you in any way. He seems quite protective.”

“He cares on occasion,” Loki mumbled, “I occasionally hold his attention.”

“I’m sure more than you think. You’ve been holding mine just fine.”

Loki gave a quick shrug as he began to pick at his nails, “The third?”

Sigyn bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve seen this illness in a much more aggressive form before. It’s painful and incurable and I couldn’t put you through that.”

He peered at her, “May I ask whom?”

 _This was going to be awkward._ But what could she do, lie?

“My mother, actually. Seems as though the Norns have a sense of humor about these things.”

The look of surprise on his face quickly fell into guilt and immediately shot her back into assurance mode, “It’s fine, Mischief, don’t worry about it. I just mean that I like you too much to wish such a fate on you, that’s all.”

He was back to staring at his hands, “That comment I began this endeavor with was not in the best taste to begin with.”

“Mischief, really, it’s fine. I also often cope with humor. I’m not sure one could make it as a healer without such a skill.”

“Still, I’m sorry.”

Loki still wasn’t looking at her, and her heart sank all the way down to her stomach. What the hell had she been thinking anyhow, getting friendly with the Prince of Asgard? Perhaps she was still rusty at making friends. Why would he want to be friends anyhow? The man had his royal pick.

“Have I ruined your evening?” she asked quietly, already steeling herself for an unpleasant answer.

The question made him jerk up in surprise, “Of course not. I confess I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“This is actually one of the most pleasant evenings I can recall having in a long time. Probably not the best reflection given your mother’s state so I suppose we’re even.” The statement was cheesy but honest and seemed to melt some of the tension out of his shoulders.

“You’re very self-assured, you know. Most others would have run in the other direction from me at this point.”

She attempted a smile, “I’m not easily scared off.”

He parried her attempt at a grin with one filled with mischief that made Sigyn’s stomach suddenly perform aerial gymnastics. He gazed intensely at her with stunning green eyes, his response assuring her that perhaps this wasn’t a one-time conversation after all.

“No, my dear girl. No, you’re not.”


End file.
